


The Price of Selfishness

by sxfaraway



Category: Take That, gary barlow - Fandom, mark owen - Fandom, robbie williams - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-16 15:03:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18096641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sxfaraway/pseuds/sxfaraway
Summary: Gary has officially hit rock bottom. He is starting to really notice just what his reality is these days.





	The Price of Selfishness

Useless. That was the one word emanating from the man’s mind, ringing in his ears like the din of a traumatic collision. Useless. _Useless_.

Alone.

The next word was no better, especially knowing that the loneliness he felt, he damned well deserved. Spending so much time simply focusing on himself had left him completely alone and trapped in his little world; a world that was fogged over by cannabis smoke and made unrecognizable by prescription drugs. The more that things plummeted with his career, the more he fell into a hole. Hardly anyone reached out to him anymore and why should they?

_You were always the issue. Front and center, pining for attention. Needy. **Selfish**._

Sat back in that haze, eyes glossy from a combination of being utterly inebriated off of what was his fifth joint in simple hours and the tears he always remained determined not to shed, all he could do was get lost in his own mind. The rut his thoughts were always on had taken a turn and sent him into a catacomb of thoughts that he had no idea had ever existed. Being so stoned, the only thing that he could do was hold onto the ride and watch and listen.

It wasn’t long before things were growing unbearable, body peeling off of the sofa to simply walk. Everything felt alien, he felt alien. He was no longer the fit, attractive twenty year old that had anchored a place in the heart’s of millions. No, he was aging and the aftermath of his faltering mental state had made itself horribly noticeable in the weight he was steadily gaining. The piano in the corner was no longer a place of solace and joy, no, it was growing to be the very bane of his existence.

Hours had been spent at that piano in a total lack of production. Naps were taken on the keys, aimless melodies played in vain. What was once a fond friend was now verging on enemies.

 _Friends_ _turned_ _enemies._

**Robbie** _._

Feet carrying him absently to the kitchen, his whirring thoughts halted and focused on that one name.

_**Robbie Williams.** _

Autopilot took over as he set to making himself a coffee, subconsciously seeking a way to sober himself out of this haze. What was once memories to reminisce on, sweet and bright to look on, were now reminders of his own stupidity that would leave him gagging and choking on the bitter taste. The more his mind wandered to Robbie, the lower he felt for a list of reasons.

His own dwindling pride was caught up on the fact that Robbie was surely out slandering his former bandmate further than he already had, dragging his name through the dirt. If Robbie had so much pent up hatred, why couldn’t he just confront and discuss everything with Gary in private? No, he had to take to the media, pushing Gary Barlow into a burst of fire and brimstone to rip away any purity that the world may have seen in the elder singer.

The ache in his heart, though, couldn’t help but think back on all the times Robbie had pointed out his roller coaster life and the fact that Gary always pushed it off. If he was in this mild sense of depression and losing himself so quickly, Robbie must have surely been suffering. Maybe he still was.

The faintest trace of a sad smile curled at his lips as the mug of coffee met them, heart sinking and stomach twisting as he remembered that Robbie did have the perfect antidepressant in human form. Gary was well aware of Mark’s closeness to Robbie and the fact that it was still there. He knew there was a regular correspondence. Maybe it was even more than he actual knew. All that he could compare it to was his own level of communication between himself and the younger, blue eyed singer. The mug met the counter top in a rough thud, dark liquid splashing out and landing on the light counter, eyes focused out in space as he took the time to remind himself that Robbie may be the aggressor, but Gary was still the one stuck alone.

His excessive pride and devout selfishness had ruined everything for him. There was no more band or close friendships, no more motivation to write or play. Nothing. The more that he realized this, the more that his past seemed to be more like bile climbing up the back of his throat from the depths of his stomach; they burned and left the worst taste in his mouth. There was no one to blame but himself now. He knew, then and there, that he deserved where he was going and what he was feeling.


End file.
